


Safe

by CamilleNicole59



Category: Memories of the Alhambra (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Desperation, Dissociation, F/M, Guilt, Headcanon, Oneshot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Repressed Emotions, Sibling Love, Spoilers up to Episode 14, Subtle Low Self-Esteem, Trauma, memories of murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17424755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamilleNicole59/pseuds/CamilleNicole59
Summary: After seemingly forever of believing he was fine, only traveling, only being with friends, and then after more of forever after revelation and searching, he's finally here. And Heeju can't seem to let him go.After seemingly forever of memories haunting him and hiding and knowing what went on in the monster that was his creation, she's finally before him. And he can't trust himself with being alone anymore.One tries to confirm the other is safe. The other forgot the meaning of such word.





	Safe

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is what happens when episode 14 leaves the audience at the worst cliffhanger possible. I hope you enjoy. It feels strange that this is only the second fanfiction in this very small fandom in this website.

Seju bit his already split lip, peeled the skin around his nails, and Heeju could tell that he tried to hold in his own tears as she sobbed, cupping his cheeks. His glasses were slightly askew, dirty with dust, and his hair overgrown and unkempt.

Funny, how seemingly nothing changed in these little details, yet there were some that betrayed how much everything has changed. She gently caressed the scars and grease and stubble that ran from his once soft, once full cheeks to his chin. She looked into his bloodshot eyes, haunted by horrors she wasn't sure she'd ever want to know. She felt quivering between the both of them, mostly because of him, as if him being kept in place by her gentle hands and her tear-filled gaze were terrifying enough to elicit his whimpers. She wasn't sure what happened in the past year to add these little, yet awful details into his beautiful face. She knew, deep down, that she had to know, even if her imagination terrified her.

Her eyes traveled down his body, down the now way-too-oversized hoodie, his thin arms and legs, the dirty converse that didn't seem strong enough to hold his height...and his seemingly dwindling weight.

Heeju distantly heard, through the rush of her eardrums, the cracking praises to God of halmeoni, the joyful shouts of Minju, the relentless questions of Sang-Beom, but all she could do was stare. And Seju stared back, as if she were the only safe eyes he could look into.

* * *

 

After the crushing hugs and the tears, Noona pulled him into his supposed room, filled with dust and empty from never having an inhabitant. As she sat him down, he realized he was so utterly, perpetually exhausted. That explained much, really; the inability to take a full breath, the staggering of his legs, the limply hanging arms, the constriction and uneven palpitations that took place in his chest. He was so, so tired. His throat and eyes were dry, though the former felt restricted, and the latter stung, and he distantly heard his hyperventilation. That was a common feature of his, after seeing the hole in a forehead, revealing a trail of blood, followed by cold, lifeless eyes.

After all this time—he's sure it was forever—he barely remembered his name. It felt weird on his tongue. He couldn't react fast enough, _normal_ enough, when it was said.

"...ju, Seju, stay with me, please."

He took a sharp breath, remembering to remain here, in reality. He wasn't sure what that was anymore, but Noona was here, before him, kneeling on the floor as he sat in this strange bed, with tears in her eyes as she pleadingly looked up at him—and even though his mind pulled at the memory of Emma, Noona's simple attire and warm makeup contrasted Emma's sensual, passionate ones. He focused on that. Either way, Noona and Emma could both be trusted.

"...have you been this whole time?" Her voice was so weak. It was the epitome of vulnerability, so _unlike_  Emma, that he flinched. "Seju-ah, tell me. Where? Where have you been?"

It's been so long since he's really spoken. He remembered crying out in pain, hyperventilating, screaming at _him_  to get lost on days he couldn't handle it anymore. But answering a question like this...

He opened his mouth, but it remained ajar, as if broken. He choked on his breath, his nails peeling more and more of his skin—

Until soft hands hands landed on his peeled, calloused ones, effectively freezing him. She seemed desperate, but some sort of realization seemed to begin dawning on her countenance. "I'm sorry, it's alright if you don't answer—you've been through so much..." she rambled, until trailing off. But then, her eyes resumed burning, and his mind pulled at the memories of Emma again, ferociously this time. "Jin-woo. He saved you, didn't he? Do you know where he is?" She barely waited once again, her eyes becoming only wilder. "Seju-ah?!"

His dry eyes burned. He wished to cry. It's been too long. Thinking about the only man to come so close for so long to bring him here disturbed his whole system. Nobody else seemed to be capable of suffering so much, and for _himself._

"I... I dont—know," he murmured, his head low, broken glasses threatening to slip off, his hands trembling beneath Noona's tight grip. Suddenly _he_  came to his memories, and he wasn't sure if the thunder and the low, hypocritically peaceful stringing of guitar were happening right now or if his memories were bringing him back to _him_.

And he choked on his breath as somehow he knew Noona's next question, the obsessive, constantly replayed memory of lifeless eyes and dark forests and graying skin and trickling blood from the gaping hole in the forehead—and he blurted—

"I didn't kill him."

The breathless words that escaped his mouth, instead of freeing him, only dragged his lungs down even more, as if chains were summoned by them being spoken after being thought of again and again and _again_. He _didn't kill him._  Even though Hyeong-seok—and the blood soaking the once immaculate suit—and Jeon-hun—and the arrows piercing his skin as he nonchalantly shot Jin-woo's enemies down—told him otherwise.

He had killed way too many, he knew that, intimately. His creation, meant to save Noona from the too-many jobs and the tears and the burnout that left her voice hoarse and her eyes bloodshot and dark with bags under them, only ended up killing and bringing insanity to anyone who dared challenge it. Noona was so close to falling into its trap as well, no matter Jin-woo's warnings— he remembered curling up and wishing to die with every log-in of hers. He could've killed her too, added her to the pile of victims. And if Jin-woo became one of them...

He sobbed.

And felt the claustrophobia pull at his memories as Noona embraced him, her own sobs filling the air, prompted by his own. And suddenly his eyes were no longer dry, his throat no longer closed up, his lungs no longer without breath. Because his body decided that it should convulse, cry out, and shed tears with each sob that came from deep down. His body decided it couldn't take it anymore, and that it was already safe enough to give up survival mode.

Heeju tried to sing and whisper sweet nothings, empty comforts, telling him that everything was going to be okay, that Jin-woo would be found, that the game would be fixed, that he was safe.

He reeled at that word. _Safe_. What did it mean? He barely remembered time before all this, before even _him_.

But Emm—Noona was here. Maybe she _was_  the very definition of _safe_. Peacekeeping, beautiful, miraculous Noona, Heeju. She was definitely safe.


End file.
